


One or two odd jobs

by effaness



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Caretaking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, but like implied, finally watched the movie yesterday and can I just say what movie?, kinda literally - Freeform, set in like s1 at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effaness/pseuds/effaness
Summary: It still wasn't very clear why you were here but it always seemed to revolve around helping the man they called a monster.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	One or two odd jobs

You jolted awake as the mothership warped back into existence in the next room. The commotion began as usual as the time travelers disembarked, and snapped into something else almost instantly.

"MOTHERFUCK- HA- GEH- SON OF A FUCKING- GOD!"

That was Flynn.

Bellowing his bastardly head off.

Perhaps something had gone wrong.

Sometimes he'd come back yelling and cursing, but never like this. Perhaps you should investigate. You slowly got up and silently slipped out of your room, not that anyone would notice you anyways, what with all the noise Flynn was making. He still hadn't shut up. Threats of murder and violence rang out through the warehouse, making you wish you had never ended up here. You cautiously opened the door to the main room before sliding through.

You could barely see Flynn in the middle of a crowd that cycled through leaning in to help and reeling away in panic. "LEAVE IT! FUCK OFF!" he roared, swinging wildly for the crowd and rather effectively convincing everyone to disperse.

Was that blood?

He was gasping raggedly and clutching his side, looking around wildly. His once neat clothes were torn and disheveled, not to mention definitely stained with something dark. So he would go to his room for medical supplies which was- oh fuck right past you, you realized a moment too late as he started stalking off in the predicted direction. There was blood running down the side of his face and you couldn't even tell how many other wounds, just that there seemed to be a lot of blood.

"You. Help me," he snarled, fixing you with a glare that left no room for argument as he walked by. At least he's not limping, you thought as you obediently followed the injured man. He opened the door to his room with what looked like a lot of self control in not ripping the thing off its hinges. You took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.

His room was no better than yours. Same shitty bed, similarly shitty dresser, which he had just pulled a first aid kit out of and tossed on to said shitty bed. You watched apprehensively as he began taking off his jacket and ended up yelping in pain instead. He couldn't really seem to move his left shoulder. He glared at you again before taking a deep breath. "Help me please," he muttered. You closed the distance between two of you with fear in your throat. You knew this job was too good to be true. Oh just keep an eye on things, he had said. False. You knew from the start this was a man with secrets and strange ideas but the pay was too good. And here you are. Delicately pulling a ruined jacket from your boss's shoulders. He winced as it came off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you deposited the jacket just outside the door. The shirt was ruined too. Not as torn as the jacket, but more bloody. Flynn turned his back to you ever so slightly as you reached for the collar of his shirt and gently began pulling it off. He was wearing an undershirt as well. You couldn't help but to give a small laugh. "Couldn't make this easy for yourself could you?"

Flynn turned to glare at you and you slapped a hand over your mouth, realizing you had said that out loud. "I didn't- I mean- I'm sorry- I- I'm-"

Flynn almost smiled. "Stop." And you stopped. You could see him fighting back a laugh. "We are not done here," he said, beckoning you back over. You tossed the shirt with the jacket and walked back to him. You could see now he had a half dozen or so cuts all across the left side of his body. Hopefully none of them were too deep. You moved in and pulled back just as quickly, trying to figure out the easiest way to remove this last layer of fabric. Flynn waited hesitantly in front of you.

"Sit down," you directed. Flynn did as you told. You stepped in closer and reached behind him, putting your hand on the back of his head and gently pushing. He carefully leaned over at your cue as you reached down to his waist, grabbed the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it up and over his head and down his injured arm.

He was a bloody mess. You took a breath and popped open the first aid kit. No, that wasn't right. Have to know what you need first. You turned to Flynn and found him staring at you. Huh. You shook off the instinct to freeze and gently placed your fingers on his forehead and jaw, turning his head to try and see where there must be an injury. You found it as you moved his bloodied hair out of the way, a gash just below his hairline. You turned back to the box and grabbed a cloth dressing, putting it to the cut. "Hold this," you murmured, nearly jumping as his fingers brushed over yours to take over applying pressure. Okay. Next problem. There was a long and almost jagged looking cut over his shoulder, alarmingly close to his neck. You searched through the medical box again and emerged with an antiseptic wash and a cloth. You popped the cap on the wash, pouring some onto the cloth and beginning to wipe away the blood.

Flynn gasped as the medicine touched his cut, face screwing up in pain as you did your job. With most of the blood cleared away it didn't look as bad as you thought it did at first. It was still bad of course, this was almost deep looking. You rummaged around in the box again and came back with butterfly bandages, quickly applying them and trying to get ahead of the bloodflow. This would have to do cause there was no way you were attempting to stitch up a fellow living thing, that was simply a no no. You pulled out a few more dressings and some large bandages. The dressings were put on first and the bandages were layered tautly over that. Okay. Progress. This might not be impossible after all. "What happened?" you asked quietly. Flynn huffed. "I met someone and they didn't like me very much," he answered.

Breathe in, breathe out. Maybe it was better if you didn't know. There were two cuts right next to each other under his collarbone. You grabbed the antiseptic and wetted a new part of the cloth. Flynn winced at your touch again. "I'm sorry. That's a perfectly reasonable question. I was caught with information I stole and a guard tried to get it back," he recounted. You had already applied a bandage and were moving on to the next injury. A longer cut across his shoulder blade. You grabbed the cloth again. "Well, it looks like they nearly had you," you said, remembering how he had come back screaming. "You should see the other guy," he smiled at you.

If it was any other person this would have lightened the mood but you shudder to think what the other guy ends up looking like in a fight against Garcia Flynn. He gasps and flinches away from you as you put the cloth against his shoulder. "Can't put pressure," he says through gritted teeth. You take a breath and gently lay your hand on the front of his shoulder and try again. He groans and clenches his fist but he doesn't have to pull away this time. A pretty good indicator of no broken bones in your book. Better than it could be. You continue cleaning the wound and very carefully apply the bandaging. "So did you just get hit real hard here or did you tear something?"

"They yanked my arm none too gently to try and cuff me. And that's when I broke the first guy's nose with my head."

He sounded so pleased with himself. You almost wanted to return the enthusiasm but instead you opted for giving a small noise of acknowledgment. There was a light cut on his arm that only needed a quick clean and a large bandage and then it was on to the last wound. A deep looking nick just above his waist. Certainly you were not going to invade his space quite like that. "Lie down," you directed.

Flynn tried and then pulled back, bracing his shoulder by laying his arm across his body and trying again. He grunted and pulled back up, quickly testing to see if the bandage at his head was stuck and then he held his hand out to you. It took a small moment to translate what he wanted. You grabbed his hand and stood steady as he used you as a counter weight to gently lay back on the only a little bit bloody at this point bed. You still had a job to do. Okay. You wiped up the rest of the blood before grabbing a new cloth. It _was_ a kinda deep cut but once again there would be no sewing of live things. "Sorry," you muttered before pouring antiseptic directly into the wound. Flynn's entire body clenched up and his breath caught before he started muttering obscenities. You wiped everything up and repeated the process once more for good measure. After butterfly bandaging the fuck outta this particular stab you opted to tape the dressing over the top, hoping it would be a little bit more movable than a bandage. Holy shit. Done. No, wait, goddammit, his stupid head.

God, you were so close. "Okay we gotta go to the bathroom to get the blood outta your hair," you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a sullen look before taking your hand and slowly sitting up. Thus far your work seemed to be effective. Much less bleeding out. Flynn grumbled a little bit more as he stalked off to the bathroom with you trailing behind him.

He was looking between the shower and the sink as you bustled in behind him. The effects of the fight were catching up to him and the adrenaline was wearing off. Poor soul. You turned the shower on and gently tugged him over by his good arm. Flynn complied but seemed unsure of what to do next.

"Just stick your head in and I'll take care of it," you said, hoping you sounded confident. Flynn gave you a rather reluctant stare before placing his hand just outside the shower to support his weight and dipping his head in the water. Dear god. This was only awkward if you let it be. You gently cupped your hand to his bloodied hair and let the water pool before releasing it. The water ran pink for quite a while as you coaxed all the blood away, carefully running your fingers through his hair and trying not to reopen the cut too much. You hadn't bothered to wipe the blood from his face at first so you did that as well, gently washing it from his cheek and jaw.

This was... alarmingly intimate. The trust you seemed to be given here was not shown to other members of his crew. The weight of it sat heavy in your chest as you saw Garcia Flynn, vengeful renegade soldier, as just another human in need of some help for the first time. As much of a person as you or anyone else.

You shook your head and tried to clear your expression as you gently pushed on his forehead, telling him that you were done. He slowly straightened himself out and you turned the shower off. He had grabbed a towel and was gently drying himself off. Your work was still holding up. He dropped the towel to the ground and pushed his hair out of the way to look in the mirror. It still wasn't bleeding too much and it didnt seem as bad as it looked at first. He muttered "Thank you," before turning to walk off.

"We're not done here," you said strongly. Flynn froze before turning back to you. "I am no longer bleeding out, so I think we are," he growled. Not even half a minute ago this would have terrified you. "That needs to be cleaned," you insisted. Flynn scoffed. "I really dont think it does," he said, trying to walk away again.

"Oh, so you're just hoping for an infection that makes your brain rot?" you asked smugly. No way he would be able to deny you were right. Flynn stops again and turns to you with a deep breath. "Okay. Fine," he snaps, and stalks off again. He did a lot of that. Never took his time with walking. Always in a broody rush. You followed him back to his room and picked up the cloth and antiseptic as Flynn sat back on the bed again with a disgruntled sigh.

You gently brushed his hair out of the way and dabbed at the cut. His breathing came a little sharper but he didn't complain. The cut was still bleeding just a smidge. You rolled up some gauze and carefully taped it over the cut. There. And now you were done. Wait. Little bit of blood still stuck on his jaw. You grabbed the cloth again and gently wiped away what you had missed in the shower.

"Stop fussing," Flynn muttered.

"Yes, because who doesn't want to run around with dried blood stuck to their face?" you retorted. Flynn grimaced. "I'm fine."

"Technically speaking you're rather injured."

"What, are you gonna kiss it and make it better?"

And you did just that. There was a very small, almost imperceptible beat right before you gently kissed his temple. 

When you pulled away, his eyes were closed and he looked ever so lost.

"Flynn?"

He glanced up at you for a moment before looking away, but in that small moment you saw too much pain. You dropped the cloth and moved your hand underneath his chin, tilting his head up before kissing him. His breath caught before he very gently kissed you back.

You felt a little bit like you were holding a live wire. Or playing with fire. Everything was fine now, even very very nice, but things could always change. Flynn's hand found your unoccupied one and you both held on like you were afraid the other would vanish. You grabbed at his jaw with a little more force and his response was to carefully bite your lip. This wasn't a game you'd win, you never thought it was, but you didn't think you'd lose quite this fast. Flynn's tongue was hot against your own and he was very clear in his intention to be the domineering one. You let him push and pull as he wanted and when you finally broke away to breathe he moved down your neck to your collarbone, immediately working on leaving a mark. Your hands flew up to his hair, pulling a little harder than you had intended in your current state. He growled and bit down almost harshly, causing you to yelp.

His hand was suddenly on your waist and pulling you forward. His face was buried in the crook of your neck and he was breathing hard. You slowly became aware of your own quick breaths. And then your pounding heartbeat. And then how your hands were still tangled in his hair. You gasped and let go, gently running your fingers through his still damp hair instead. He moaned at your touch, seeming content to stay here as long as he could. "Don't leave."

It wasn't a demand but you could tell he wanted it to be.

"I... ah, well, someone should um, should stay and make sure you don't get any worse I suppose," you mumbled. It took a surprising amount of thinking to form coherent sentences at the moment. You felt him give a tiny smile against you before he pulled away. "Thank you for patching me up."

"Yeah of course, I um, well, of course."

You could have sworn he laughed at that, just a little bit.

Good, you thought. He needs to remember how to laugh.


End file.
